Find Me Again Someday
by tess4aria
Summary: After the Dursleys make good on their threat to get rid of their ward, Harry meets a boy he feels an instant connection with.  Thus begins a chain of events with many repercussions.  Sevitus.  SlytherinHarry.  Slight AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Find Me Again Someday**

_Part 1: Eridanus _

This is a different kind of story than I've written in the past. It will eventually be a Sevitus, but the first part is pre-hogwarts and more focused on Harry and the development of my OC-aka, expect little to no Severus appearances. The second part will be more of a return to Canon and the third will be a combination of the two.

Please give me your feedback. I look forward to hearing response to this story.

I do not own Harry Potter or Severus Snape. As much as it pains me.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Birthday Dreams<strong>

Harry Potter draped his ratty blanket over the squat bottle he'd nicked from the recycling bin earlier that day. The tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth in his concentration, he took the crayon stubs from his treasure tin under a shelf with cleaning supplies and began to draw little swirly designs on ripped up sections of notebook paper. With a bit of tape, he pasted them around the disguised bottle. On a larger section of paper, he wrote 'Happy Birthday Harry!' as carefully as he could in the dim light of his cupboard. Taping it right below the bottle-neck, he then took the bright yellow crayon and stuck it in the open mouth of the bottle. He sat back to admire his work.

He could almost convince himself it was a real birthday cake! Well, a cupcake, at least. All he had to do was use his imagination-and that was one thing he certainly had no shortage of. When he took off his glasses, the world blurred and the crayon even seemed to have a ring of light circling it. Focusing hard, he could almost hear a group of people crowded around him, singing and congratulating him. He gazed at his imaginary cake in longing. If only he could taste it…but this would have to do.

After all, his aunt and uncle had never given him a real cake before. He couldn't remember ever receiving a present, either. This fact had bothered him when he was younger-and it still did-but years of dashed hope had turned his confusion come birthday and holiday times into reluctant acceptance.

And he would have to make do with imagining loving voices around him. No one would come to a real birthday party of his (if he were ever to have one) of course. For one thing, he didn't have any friends (Dudley had made sure of that!) and nobody-not his teachers or neighbors-ever seemed to really notice him. On the contrary, everyone seemed to avoid him like the plague, though those he did catch looking at him all wore similar expressions of pity and suspicion.

Harry knew his aunt and uncle had warned them all about him-about how he was a troubled child and potentially dangerous. What Aunt Petunia didn't tell the neighbors (something which had confused Harry for a while until he understood more clearly his aunt's desperate need to appear normal) was one thing that had been hammered into him from early on. Being reminded of this was, in fact, the earliest memory he could recall and which he was now quite sure was the truth: that he was a freak.

Harry often wished his parents were still alive. He really wished he had a brother or sister to play with-someone who would be his friend and not like Dudley whose idea of "playing" only included chasing him with sticks, tripping him, hitting him and getting him in trouble at home.

No, what he wanted more than anything was _family_. He felt this to be a perfectly valid wish, as even though he lived with his aunt and uncle, he was reminded daily that he was not a member of _their family_, but just a little burdensome freak his drunkard parents had gone and landed them with.

But Harry wouldn't give up hope. Even though every day was pretty much the same-waking up in his cupboard, spiders hanging down and occasionally getting tangled in his hair, trying not to mess up breakfast as he balanced the too-heavy saucepan from where he tried not to fall from the step-ladder and either chores or school depending on what time of year-he was a very sharp little boy and was always on the look-out for a potential friend. Certainly _someday _there would be someone wouldn't believe his aunt's whisperings about him…right?

After all. Maybe he was a freak and different. But he didn't think he was a BAD freak. He tried not to be. And besides, he didn't think his freaky things were bad at all, really. He'd even made some snake friends one day! That was until Dudley had scared them away. He'd gotten a pretty bad walloping that night and Uncle had made him promise he'd stop the freakiness. But even though he'd agreed to his Uncle's face, deep down he knew he felt a little less alone each time he _did _something. When his relatives didn't catch him, it felt like his own little special secret-almost like having a friend. It was something he had that they didn't. And on cold nights when he was trying to sleep with his thin blanket and lumpy mattress, it made him feel warmer to think about it .

But if just once he could have a real friend-a boy like him (or a girl; Harry wasn't picky). If only, he was sure he could stand up to Dudley and feel like a knight strong enough to slay a dragon!

And so Harry hoped on.

Knowing he had his wish, Harry let his hopes out as he took a deep breath and blew at his yellow birthday candle-crayon. It toppled over and to his glasses-less eyes, it almost looked as if he had blown out a true candle.

Now-8 year-old Harry fell asleep, his dreams full of the wonderful adventures he imagined his birthday wish to bring-of what all he would do once he found _someone_-someone like family. Someone just for him.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: The Dursleys' Gift<strong>

_3 weeks later_

Tap! Tap! Tap!

"Boy!" His aunt's voice snapped.

Rap! Rap!

"'M awake," Harry grumbled. Once he heard Petunia's footsteps hurrying away, he yawned and sat up, pulling a single spider from his hair and rummaging around for something to wear. Not like it really mattered, as all his clothes were so huge on him he always felt like he was swimming in them!

But then he remembered-he had school today! Normally this wouldn't have been any case for excitement. It wasn't that Harry didn't like school. He actually loved learning and read whenever he could. But he could never do his best because his aunt and uncle had made it clear a long time ago that his doing better than Dudley in anything only made Harry's life more difficult.

But last week, his aunt had given him some surprising news. Apparently, a new school had opened in the neighborhood and Harry would go there from now on. A new school! Where the students and teachers didn't already hate him! It gave him hope, even though it was a pretty flimsy hope.

Aunt Petunia hadn't said much of anything else about it and Harry hadn't pressed. After all, if he showed any excitement, she'd probably change her mind. But Dudley would keep going to the old place and so Harry couldn't see how this place could be worse for him. For the first time, he wouldn't be Dudley's shadow. Finally, he would have a chance to meet people before his cousin scared them off. Maybe he could make a friend who saw him as Harry rather that as a little freak-boy.

He flicked on the single bulb in his cupboard to examine his clothes carefully to find the very best set of shirt and pants he could. He certainly didn't want to look like a ragamuffin on his first day!

"What are you doing in there, boy?" His aunt peered through the slits on his cupboard door and eyed him with impatience and disgust.

"I'm just looking for clothes, Aunt Petunia."

For some reason, her tightly-drawn lips rose into a slightly mean smile. "I'm sure what you wear won't make a difference," she said, mock-sweetly. "Hurry up and fix breakfast before your uncle gets done!" She then hissed.

Nodding, Harry put on the clothes he'd chosen right before then-a dark green shirt with holes but only a few stains and once-black pants he had to belt-up with twine he'd nicked one Christmas-and scrambled from the cupboard and into the kitchen.

Petunia thrust the saucepan at him impatiently and he took over without complaint. A few minutes later, he was handling several tasks at once, bacon frying as he spooned humongous portions of eggs onto two plates (and a smaller portion onto a third). Once the bacon was done, he deposited it on the respective dishes and made to carry them to the table. He was sure to be extra careful not to trip and mess anything up. He was too scared that his aunt would change her mind about school if he didn't.

Breathing a sigh of relief when all three plates had made their journey without incident, Harry returned to the stove to fry up another batch of bacon and finish toasting the bread. He knew Uncle and Dudley would demand it anyway.

A tell-tale creaking and then a foreboding earthquake-like rattling all around him let him know the others had arrived. Vernon sat down in his chair, making it groan dangerously under his weight, and began to inhale the breakfast without a word. Dudley grinned meanly at Harry when he entered the kitchen and elbowed him off the step-ladder before joining his father.

As Harry pushed himself off the floor, he was only glad he hadn't been holding anything when Dudley pushed him. Sighing, he clambered back up and piled the toast and bacon onto two plates. He was surprised when his aunt grabbed one to take it to the table, but he knew it was to save time rather than to help him.

Harry started to set the plate of bacon down between Dudley and Vernon, but it was wrenched from him by Dudley, his porky features salivating as he took most of the second-helping for himself.

"Boy!" Vernon barked. Harry turned to look at him in slight fear.

"Y-yes, Uncle Vernon?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"What is this? You want my family to starve? Get us some more and snap on it!"

Nodding, Harry returned to the stove to fry-up yet another batch of bacon, all the while ignoring his growling stomach.

Finally, Vernon and Dudley seemed to have had their full and Harry was made to wash dishes as his aunt began to prepare their school lunches. He couldn't help but notice as she put an extra handful of cookies in Dudley's lunchbox. Harry never got cookies, but only a single slice of ham or cheese between two dry pieces of wonder bread (and sometimes a bruised apple) in his own box. He tried not to think about it-after all, soon he'd have a friend and what did a school lunch mean compared to that?

Once he'd finished with the dishes, he stood by patiently until his aunt shoved a small plate of breakfast's scant (and now cold) leftovers. Harry really wished he didn't have to eat after his uncle and cousin as it wasn't too appetizing, but he just told himself it was better, probably, as at least it made him lose some of his appetite.

15 minutes later, Harry was trying hard to suppress his grin as he followed his relatives to the car. They never drove him usually! A happy giddiness bubbling in his chest, Harry clutched his raggedy book bag (filled only with a pencil stub, a chewed-on pen he'd saved from Ripper and a single half-filled notebook). As he clambered into the car beside his cousin, he couldn't even feel the usual bitterness for how cruddy his school supplies were. After all, it shouldn't matter as long as he did well, right? Since Dudley wouldn't be with him, he wouldn't have to pretend to get answers wrong all the time, so maybe his teachers would like him for once!

He was feeling so high in the clouds that he barely even noticed when Dudley started punching him periodically through the drive.

"Boy! Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Harry jumped. He'd completely spaced out. "Uh, sorry, Uncle Vernon."

The man sneered. Harry looked out the window and recognized that they were parked in front of the school he had gone to last year. A heavy feeling settled in his gut as he felt all his high hopes draining out. Had it been a joke after all?

But then Dudley left (after delivering a good-bye punch) and the car started moving again. Looking up in confusion and trying to keep the rising hope from his eyes, Harry noticed Vernon watching him with narrowed eyes.

"You had better mind your teachers, brat. And none of your funny business! Although," his grin turned feral, "I'll bet this place is gonna whip you into shape well enough."

Harry blinked and answered noncommittally, refusing to let the man get to him right now. Vernon's rants were often bluster, and he thought probably that's what this was. At least he knew he was moderately safe from his Uncle right now as it wasn't like Vernon would hit him right before he left for school, anyway. It would be too visible.

Harry decided to pay attention to where they were going in case he had to walk himself back and forth from now on. He wouldn't be surprised-he usually had to walk to school even when they were driving Dudley to the same place anyway.

Harry tried to memorize the way as they drove, but it seemed an awful long way. Was Uncle sure this was the right direction? Harry didn't dare ask.

They were getting into a bad area of town, Harry could see. Boarded-up shops were everywhere, and he noticed several men asleep in alleyways with half-empty bottles beside them.

Harry gulped. Would he really have to walk through here every day?

Finally the car stopped and his aunt shoved a paper bag at him.

Harry looked up questioningly. He didn't see a school.

"The joint's around the corner. You can walk the rest of the way. We're not about to be seen in a rundown place like this," Vernon sneered.

Harry tried to nod, but he was getting really scared. What if there was no school after all?

"Are you deaf? Get out, boy!"

Harry gulped and with a deep breath, clutching his sack and lunch bag for dear life, climbed down out of the car.

"Have fun," Vernon said maliciously, and they sped away, leaving Harry at the side of the road clutching his bag to his chest. He had rarely felt so alone as he did then.

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><p>Well, what did you think?<p>

I have the next...60 pages written...so expect an update soon ;)

Can't wait to have your feedback/ ideas about where things might go-I definitely take my reviewers' ideas into consideration as I revise.

Thanks!

tess4aria


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Welcome to School**

So...I lied. Abysmally. This was, in no way, a quick update, and for that, I apologize. I hope you'll bear with me, now that it's summer.

I know things are starting slowly, but I want to show the context in which Harry and my OC meet. And yes, I am borrowing elements of Matilda for inspiration, in case anyone asks.

Please give me your thoughts!

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><p>For a time Harry just stood where they'd left him, staring after the Dursley's car even after it had vanished from sight. An unseasonably chilly breeze washed over him and Harry shivered and wrapped his skinny arms as well as he could around himself. He knew he wasn't getting anywhere standing still, and he figured he really ought to find this school…if there even was one.<p>

Taking a deep breath, he began walking in the direction Vernon had indicated with his meaty finger. It seemed to take no time at all (which was unfortunate as a thick wad of dread was forming in his chest). But Harry told himself to be brave and swallowing, rounded the old brick building on the corner. No sooner had he done so that a place like an old abandoned factory came into view.

It certainly didn't look like a school, but Harry crept forward to investigate nonetheless. There was no playground that he could see, and hardly any grass in sight. The building and its drive were surrounded by a tall steel-looking fence rimmed with barbed-wire which reminded Harry of a prison. Was it a prison?

But then he noticed kids standing around the front steps and relaxed a bit. Now feeling more confident, he crept closer and found a sign hanging beside the front gate.

"_Dearthrow Institution_," it read, and below it, a plaque read "_Dearthrow Academy_." Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Academy-that sounded right. He didn't know what was meant by Institution, but at least he knew his aunt and uncle hadn't been lying about there being a school here. Even though it looked kind of scary, there were kids and he could still make friends. And furthermore, there was no Dudley. Smiling slightly, Harry took a deep breath and walked in.

Once inside the gates (which were guarded by a stern-faced guard who peered suspiciously at Harry when he looked at him), he noticed many more children. There weren't any adults besides the one guard, though, and that surprised Harry. It was the first day of school-parents always liked to stay around on the first day of school (well, not for him of course), but he didn't see any at all!

He also noticed that the kids were of all ages…some who looked much younger than he and some who looked like they were in high school-some even looked like they were almost adults!

Looking around in interest, Harry got another surprise. Everyone was dressed like him! Well, not exactly, but most of the kids were wearing clothes which didn't quite fit right-some with stains, some with holes, all in this dark grey color with black pants. He remembered Aunt Petunia telling him his clothing wouldn't matter, and he could see what she meant now. It actually made him fit in the way he was dressed. Maybe this was a school for poor kids? That didn't matter to Harry-a friend was a friend, after all.

Most of the children were already grouped up talking to those around them. In the past, Harry would never have dared to approach already-formed group like those around him to try to talk to anyone, but this was his chance to make a good first impression. And since no one knew him yet, they wouldn't have any reason to hate him. Right?

And logically, since the school was new, everyone was meeting for the first time. So the fact that they already looked so close must mean they were friendly, right?

Putting a big smile on his face, Harry walked over to a group of about 5 boys who looked around his age. As he approached them, though, his attention was momentarily stolen away by a boy who was sitting alone on the steps. The child looked smaller than most of the other kids and Harry found himself feeling curious about him. But he'd already decided to talk to these boys who seemed interested in making friends, so he pushed his attention back to the present.

"Hi!" He said, grinning.

The boys turned to look at him but said nothing.

Harry's grin wavered slightly. "Er, I'm Harry."

When the boys just glared at him, he gulped. Was there some rule about making friends that he didn't know? Maybe he just had to be bold and keep talking. Being quiet hadn't helped him make friends in the past, after all.

"So, I just wanted to say hi. Um, what do you guys like to do? Do you live near here? I, er, I live with my aunt and uncle and-"

His rambling was cut off abruptly when the tallest boy stepped forward and gripped his shirt collar roughly and heaved him up until only his toes touched the ground. "We're not interested in your life. Get lost," he hissed, and tossed Harry to the ground.

Shocked, hurt and confused, Harry just stared up at the boy, unable to form any coherent words.

"Stay away from us, little freak," the boy sneered. His friends all laughed and sneered at him as well.

Harry's heart plummeted. How? How did they know? Had Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon…of course! _Stupid Harry! They must have warned them. How could I have thought they would send me someplace new without telling everyone about me?_

His tendrils of hope slipping quickly, Harry muttered out a quiet "sorry" and scurried away, trying to ignore the laughter that followed him.

Harry found a water fountain and washed off his scraped hands. Much to his horror, he felt a few tears beginning to well in his eyes. He winced a bit, realizing his legs were scraped pretty badly too. Lifting his overlarge pants-legs, he awkwardly wetted his kneecaps before sitting down in an out-of-the-way alcove.

He sniffed. So much for this idea. It seemed that everyone would see him as a freak, no matter what.

As he stayed in the corner, trying to find something to still hope for in this situation-at the very least by remembering that Dudley wasn't there and he could probably avoid making himself a target-he had the feeling that someone was watching him.

Looking up warily, he noticed the boy he'd seen sitting alone earlier was watching him with piercing dark eyes. When the boy noticed Harry looking, he turned away, but Harry was even more curious now and continued to watch the boy. Because even though his gaze had been kind of unnerving, it hadn't been mean. He hadn't felt threatened by it, really.

The boy had long black hair that looked even dirtier than Harry's-and that was saying something, as Uncle Vernon only let him shower twice a week-and only in cold water. He was skinny. Very skinny. His skin was pale and he had a nose that made Harry think of a story he'd read about a prince once. It didn't fit with the rest of his raggedy appearance, though.. His shirt was dark grey and very worn and loose and it made him look even smaller than he was. As it was, Harry thought the boy was probably a year or two younger than he. Harry hoped they could be in the same class, but he doubted it, if they were different ages. For some reason, though, the boy interested him.

A piercing buzz went off and the dark-haired boy jumped and, with one last glance at Harry, hurried in through the front school door, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.

Harry didn't know where to go, so he just followed the throng of students through a grungy, dark hallway and into a larger room with long tables set up much like at his old school. _Must be the cafeteria, _Harry thought.

No one else seemed to be as confused as Harry was, and they all seemed to take a seat according to their age (or height. Harry couldn't tell). They also all seemed to know each other already, and Harry wondered if maybe this school wasn't new and his aunt had made that up.

"Potter!" A voice snapped, and Harry jumped, turning to see a scowling woman in a tight bun. "You are Potter, yes?" She asked impatiently.

"Y-yes, ma'am," Harry managed, stumbling slightly as he made his way to the front of the room. Sniggers and whispers followed him and he was both mortified and confused as to what he'd done now.

"Well, don't just stand there. Follow me! The rest of you stay where you are until Mr. Thornbridge arrives."

Harry followed the woman through the maze-like hallways, feeling more and more nervous. Oh, what had he done now? He'd only just gotten here. How could he already be in trouble? Uncle Vernon would be so mad and then…he shivered, not wanting to think about that now.

They came to a door with HEAD'S OFFICE engraved on a plaque above it.

Harry followed the woman inside.

"Headmistress Hardcastle? This is Mr. Potter."

"That will be all, Ms. Thelson," the owner of the voice responded.

Harry was shaking, now. This person didn't sound nice, and that name…Hardcastle…sure didn't help.

"Sit, Mr. Potter," the voice snapped.

Harry sat in an impossibly hard and uncomfortable seat and the large chair behind the desk spun around to reveal a woman who very much seemed to fit her name. She had a square jaw and looked very stern. In her hand, she held a ruler which she began to slap against her other palm as she eyed him.

"So. _Mr_. Harry Potter," she said with a slight sneer in her tone.

It wasn't a question, but Harry replied "Y-yes, ma'am. I'm Harry Potter," as politely as possible.

"Yes, your uncle had quite a lot to say about you."

"O-oh. I-I see?"

"Of course, we have our fair share of unwanted orphans dumped on us each year, but your case is unusual, isn't it?" She seemed to be in the midst of a private joke, but then she turned back to him and smirked. "Still, it is an unusual case, yours. Your relatives must be quite desperate to get rid of you."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, and shrugged.

She slapped the ruler on the table and the sound and motion both made Harry jump. "Do not think to reply so impertinently again, Mr. Potter," she barked. "I asked you a question and expect a verbal response."

"Um, I don't know, Ma'am. I mean, yes, ma'am," Harry said quickly, seeing her narrowed eyes.

"Be careful that you do not step one toe out of line, boy. You will soon learn the way we do things here is for your own good. And for the good of society, of course. We cannot have such little monsters run free without correction, now can we?"

"Um, no, ma'am," Harry responded automatically.

She smiled at him-in a very poison-honeyed way.

"Here is your schedule of classes, boy. I expect I'll be seeing you soon," she smirked.

Harry doubted that was a good thing. "Ma'am?"

"Listen to your minders, boy. Well, you'll learn soon, anyhow."

Nodding and making his excuses as politely as possible, Harry left the office. He didn't know what that was all about, but he knew Ms. Hardcastle was not one to get on the wrong side of. She gave him the creeps. He stared at his class schedule. It was quite full. His first class was Maths, with Thornbridge. Room 113.

"Okay, here goes," he said to himself.

He found the room without too much trouble, but much to his horror, class had already begun.

Harry opened the door, feeling very awkward and out of place, and noticed with a sinking feeling that the group of boys he'd met earlier sat in two rows near the back of the room. They smirked at him when he walked in, and the ringleader, a tall, mousy-haired boy, cracked his knuckles threateningly.

"Potter, is it?" Thornbridge asked gruffly.

"Yes, sir."

"Take a seat, then." The man returned to the board, then, and Harry nodded.

There was one seat left (in the front), and though Harry wasn't all that keen on that, at least he would be far away from the group of boys he'd run into earlier.

There weren't that many students, really. As Harry glanced around, he realized that besides the five boys he'd met earlier, there were only 4 others besides himself. The classroom was small, and there were only just enough desks for their small number. Nevertheless, Harry pulled out his notebook and pencil and tried to get settled in the uncomfortable desk chair.

A wad of something hit him in the back of the head, but Harry ignored it. He knew that it only made it worse if you responded to bullies.

As the teacher started lecturing in his impatient manner, Harry was disappointed to realize that he'd already learned it all before.

He found his gaze drifting to the window, distracted by the nice day outside and the occasional twinge from his scraped knee.

"Potter. Up front!"

Eyes widening, Harry hurried to obey and ignored the sniggers behind him. Stepping forward, he was shocked when the man grabbed his wrist and rapped it hard with a ruler.

"Ouch!"

The man ignored Harry's yelps and gave him four more raps.

"Do not think you can get away with daydreaming during class, Potter. Get to the board and write '_I will be respectful of my teacher's and classmates' time_' until I say you can stop."

Shocked speechless, Harry nodded and began to write out the sentence, feeling a lump of righteous anger rising in his chest, his hand twinging from the ruler as he scrawled the letters out.

Thornbridge didn't let him stop until the bell rang for the next class.

"Let it be a lesson to you."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Harry hurried from the classroom and began to run up the stairs, anxious not to be late to his next class. On the way, though, he stopped stock-still at familiar taunting.

"Little freak! Poor wittle freak! You gonna cry now?"

Harry turned, surprised that the taunting wasn't directed at him. It was then he noticed the group from earlier tripping a boy in the hallway. The boy yelped as he landed, and the bullies laughed, purposefully stepping all over the papers he'd dropped.

"Why do you carry so many books, freak? Not like you're gonna make something of yourself!"

"That's right. You think you're better than us? I bet you're too little and stupid to read, anyway!"

Harry found his legs carrying him forward before he had made a conscious decision.

"Leave him alone!" He shouted.

"Oh…it's the new shrimp," one boy sneered.

Harry gulped but lifted his chin defiantly and looked the mousy-haired boy in the eyes.

After a moment, the kid smirked and shrugged. "Brave kid. Not that it'll help you." He smirked more widely. "See you in class." He and his cronies all bumped Harry's shoulders roughly as they walked past him. Harry glared after them, but was somewhat surprised nothing worse had happened.

With that, he turned his attention to the boy they'd been taunting, who was lifting himself up, gingerly.

The child looked at Harry in shock, slight suspicion, and hesitant gratitude and Harry belatedly realized it was the boy he'd been so curious about earlier.

Smiling warmly, as he could tell the boy was nervous, Harry offered his hand to him.

The smaller boy narrowed his eyes, looking at the hand suspiciously for a moment, but then seemed to make a decision and let Harry help him up.

Without a word, Harry bent down to help him gather his books and papers, attempting to smooth out what the bullies had crumpled.

"Th-thanks," the boy whispered, his lanky hair covering one eye.

"No problem," Harry said softly. After a moment, he decided to take a jump. "I'm Harry by the way. What's your name?"

That innocent question seemed to make the boy nervous, for some reason, and his hands began to shake as they gripped his retrieved papers to his chest tightly. Harry's eyes narrowed in concern. "Hey, what's wrong?" He reached out for the boy, but the child flinched and sped away in the opposite direction without another word.

Harry frowned, wondering what he'd done to scare the boy so much.

He felt a pull to follow him, but then glanced at the clock and groaned. He'd made himself late. He was willing to bet that was what that mousy-haired bully had been smirking about earlier, too. And why he'd let Harry go so easily.

He didn't have much trouble finding the classroom so he was only five minutes late. When he entered to see the same group of 9 students (five of them smirking openly at him and the other four only glancing curiously before apparently deeming him not worth the interest), he was met with a stony glare from a teacher with short grey hair.

"You, boy! You think you can walk in whenever you please, do you?"

"No, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. I got lost," he fibbed.

The next thing he knew, the woman was pinching his ear viciously, pulling him to the front of the class.

"Wrists out!" She commanded and Harry hesitated. It wasn't okay to hit students anymore in schools, was it? Thornbridge had, but he had been too shocked to think about it much…

"I didn't say gawk, I said wrists out!"

Harry shakily held up his wrist and felt 10 quick, sharp blows delivered to his wrists and knuckles.

"Now get to the board and write 'I will learn to be punctual and obey my teachers or face the consequences.'"

Groaning internally, Harry began to write the lines. By the end of the period, his hands were tired and ached terribly (the combination of the lines, raps and his fall this morning taking a toll). So much for a fascinating English class, Harry thought bitterly.

Harry had only one more class (History) before lunch, and time seemed to drag on forever as the teacher droned. Harry wasn't late, though, and he had learned his lesson about not spacing out, so his hands weren't given any additional reason to ache (besides note-taking). The pain was distracting, but Harry did his best to pay attention (or to at least ACT like he was paying attention) and somehow got through the hour.

As he left the classroom, scowling as the same bully (Steve, the History teacher had called him) shoved him roughly into a wall, he was more than ready for lunch, regardless of what feeble offerings his aunt had given him.

Harry entered the cafeteria, keeping one eye out for the shy little boy he kept running into. He rounded the room a few times, but didn't see him. It was odd, but he felt instinctually protective of the younger boy for some reason. And he wanted to apologize to him for however he'd scared him.

Focused on his search, he missed the foot sticking out before him. Harry gasped in pain as he landed on his hands and knees, his glasses digging roughly into his face where he bumped them to the cold stone floor.

"Watch where you're going, freak!"

Harry swallowed, willing the stinging sensation in his eyes to go away, and stood up. Looking around, every face appeared either hostile or indifferent. Sighing, Harry turned around and decided to have his lunch outside where no one could find him-a tactic he'd often used back at his old school. He found a private little alcove in the back of the school and sat down.

So far, this place had been no better-it had been worse, in fact-than school with Dudley. Even though his cousin wasn't there, there were still plenty of kids to pick on him. Harry's heart clenched again. He would always be the freak, it seemed. He just didn't know _why _he had to be one. He always tried to be so good! But nothing ever helped.

An old sound like feet scurrying backwards made him glance up. There, standing a few feet back from his hiding spot, eyes wide and startled. was the same little black-haired boy.

"Hey-" Harry started, but the boy jumped and turned to run away again.

"No, wait! Please!" Harry jumped up and called after him. "I'm sorry for scaring you earlier. I just…"

Harry sighed. Yeah right. This boy wouldn't believe him. Who was he kidding? Everyone else here hated him already. He should just give up on his silly hopes of some great friendship.

Another little scuffling sound made him look up again and he noticed the boy hadn't left, but was rocking nervously from foot to foot. He seemed to be trying to make a decision of some kind. Suddenly, he walked closer to Harry and held something out.

Harry reached out questioningly to take it. He raised an eyebrow. "A band-aid?"

"You're hurt," the boy whispered.

Harry stared at him. His throat tightened strangely and he found it hard to get his words out suddenly.

"Er, it's not too bad. But thanks. That's really nice of you."

The boy nodded and turned to go.

"Wait! Please. Can't you…I mean, do you want to sit with me? There's plenty of room."

The boy looked at the out-of-the-way alcove longingly and then finally gave a short nod.

Harry smiled and led the boy back to where he'd sat down to have lunch.

The smaller boy hunched back into the wall behind him and Harry sat cross-legged a few feet from him.

"Thanks again for this," Harry said, putting the band-aid on a particularly bad cut on his palm.

The little boy shrugged. "You helped me. No one…no one's ever-"

He clammed up.

Harry looked at him considering. "Um, could you tell me what I did to scare you earlier? I didn't mean to. Really."

The boy shrugged and looked away, biting his lip.

"I wasn't going to tease you, you know."

The boy stiffened. "Why not?" He whispered. "Everyone does."

"Well that's dumb!" Harry burst out, and the boy's eyes widened in surprise. "You seem perfectly nice to me. They shouldn't tease you and I certainly won't. Can we start over? I'm Harry." He smiled reassuringly.

The boy stared in Harry's eyes as if attempting to gauge his sincerity and said, softly, "I'm…" He blushed and stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"My name," he whispered.

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's weird."

"Hey-I bet it isn't. But if you don't like it, I bet we could find a cool nickname for it. Come on-what is it?"

"Eri-Eridanus," he admitted softly.

Harry considered and then grinned widely. "It's not weird. It's cool and really pretty…I think I've even heard it before." Harry's eyes lit up. "Hey! I know where it's from! It's a constellation!"

Eridanus blinked.

"Eridanus is a really huge system of stars, you know," Harry whispered excitedly. It's supposed to be of a river."

"How-how do you know that?" The boy sounded awed.

"I used to look at the star books whenever I was hiding from my cousin in the library," Harry explained, not quite sure why he was telling the boy so much, but feeling comfortable with him for some reason. Maybe because he reminded him of himself. He even looked like him with his dark hair, tiny frame and uncanny eyes.

"Our library doesn't have much," Eridanus admittedly sadly. "I love to read…well, I can't read that well, but I read what I can and a lot of it is just on boring stuff like rules."

"Oh, well…" Harry only just noticed that the boy had finally started responding in more than two words at a time. "Hey, Eri?"

"Eri?" The boy cocked his head in confusion.

Harry blinked. "Oh. It just slipped out. Is it okay if I call you that?"

Eri nodded, looking childlike and enthusiastic for the first time. "Yeah! It's great. No one's ever given me a nickname before."

Harry smiled and the boy's nervous posture relaxed.

The two sat in companionable silence and Harry reached to pull out his crumpled brown paper lunch bag his aunt had given him. He opened it up and stared unenthusiastically at the half-sandwich with a skinny sliver of cheese and bruised apple.

Eri stared at the pitiful lunch and Harry instantly felt self-conscious. He bit his lip and opened his mouth to explain that he had eaten a bit breakfast and wasn't hungry-

"Why didn't you just get the cafeteria food, Harry?"

"Huh? But, well…I don't have any money…"

Eri looked at him in confusion. "Well, I don't either…but it's free for us. You know, they have to feed us something at least." His voice sounded a little bitter, but Harry didn't quite understand.

"Well, yeah…but I guess, at my old school, we had to pay for lunch or bring it."

"But that was a normal school, right?" Eri asked, his voice and expression suggesting that Harry should already have known the answer.

"Uh yeah, but…what's so different about here?"

Eri stared. "Well, you don't live at a normal school."

"Yeah…wait, what?"

Eri didn't say anything, but just stared blankly at Harry.

"You mean…people live here?"

Eri still stared and shifted uneasily. Harry's chest twisted. "Wait, you mean, you live here?"

"Don't rub it in," Eri hissed, glaring suddenly. "It's not like I chose it!"

And before Harry could stop him or ask anything else, Eri ran off, his tiny features hidden behind locks of lanky hair.

...

Afternoon classes passed in a similar manner to those before lunch and, though Harry managed to avoid trouble with the teachers, he received plenty of taunting from the bullies. Most of all, though, he couldn't stop thinking about Eri and wondering how he could apologize to the boy. He had never meant to hurt his feelings! And he was mad at himself, too, because for a minute there, it had seemed like he was making a friend after all, but then he had gone and ruined it!

Another bell chimed and Harry was surprised by the way the day was split up. Lunch had been at 11 and now, at 2, they apparently got "free time" after which they would have class again. Just when did the day end? Harry couldn't help but find it incredibly tedious, especially since the teachers didn't seem to really teach anything. They just seemed to like to hear themselves yell.

Harry wandered through the hallways, trying to blend in as well as he could, all the while keeping an eye out for Eri. Finally, he just sat down on the front steps and watched the younger kids run around. He glimpsed a flash of black slipping around the corner and Harry jumped and followed to see Eri sitting with his back to a tree, hugging his legs to his chest. He looked to be deep in thought, his forehead crinkled.

With a deep breath, Harry hesitantly approached the boy.

"Um, Eri? I-I've been looking for you...um." He swallowed. "I'm-I'm really sorry Eri. I, well, I didn't mean to be insens-er, insensitive," he said the word carefully. "I was worried I'd hurt you."

Eri looked at him in open shock for a second and then his face shadowed in slight distrust and confusion. "Why?"

"Huh? Why what?"

"You don't even know me. Why do you care if you hurt me or not? I mean, you don't know that I'm, well…"

The boy cut off abruptly.

"That you're what?"

"Nothing. But you'd be better off staying away from me," the boy said softly.

"That's not true! Why do you say that, Eri?"

The boy regarded him seriously. "No one likes me, and if you 're with me, then everyone'll be mean to you too!"

Harry shook his head. "I'm used to that, though," he confessed. Eri raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I mean…no one liked me at my old school, and the other kids already don't like me here, so I could say the same thing to you!"

Eri seemed to ponder that for a moment, but then Harry said, shyly, "But I was thinking…that maybe it would be better if we were together, even if the others don't like us. You know?"

"Maybe," Eri confessed, shrugging slightly. He looked up at Harry and offered him a hesitant smile.

"Great. So, uh, friends?" Harry held out his hand and smiled, trying not to show how nervous and hopeful he felt.

Eri looked gobsmacked and still hesitant. He looked at Harry for a long moment before shakily taking his hand. "Um, okay. F-friends," he whispered. He stared at their clasped hands as if he weren't sure they were real, but then he and Harry smiled shyly at each other.

Suddenly, Harry felt as if his world were somehow more complete. For all the oddness of this school, at least he'd gotten the main thing he'd wanted from it.

Eri's smile faded after a minute and he looked at Harry, frowning.

"Is there something wrong?"

Eri frowned again and bit his lip. When he spoke, his voice was very shy, tentative. "How are you here if you aren't moving in, too?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. Remembering what Eri had said earlier, Harry felt a sinking feeling in his chest. But he didn't understand. Did all these kids live here? How awful must that be! "Does no one here go home to their families at night?"

"We don't have families." His expression was sad and looked too resigned for someone so little. He looked at Harry with a strange expression almost akin to pity, his eyes too wise. "This is an orphanage, Harry."

* * *

><p>Duh-duh-duh. I hope this chapter wasn't too boring. Do you have any guesses as to who Eridanus is? Do you like him so far?<p>

Reviews are fabulous motivation for us lowly writers! *Hint hint*

Thanks for reading!


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